It is almost 1100PM. I am in bed, next to J. We have a movie on, Out Of Africa. It is incredibly depressing. I wonder how I watched as many times as I have without perceiving its bleak and painful outlook.

How in Heaven’s name will I ever be happy? My day was spent preparing brunch for J and me. And the good spirits and cordially was elusive. Her exhaustion ruled the day.

My heart breaks a little more every day.

This is rest mode actually. I slept late and spent a good hour or so, slicing, chopping, grating, preparing a fritatta for brunch when J finished work.The fritatta was well received.

She is exhausted. The stores are selling out of stuff at an astonishing rate. We get crazy like this when the schools close because of snow.

The Churches are having Mass, but the clergy understands if people don’t go. I mean, I don’t know if I have been exposed and I would hate to get some of the infirm and elderly sick. So I stayed home. It is as if. I gave up Church for Lent.

Right now, my body still feels the effect of yesterday’s swim, the languid relaxed feeling of the endorphin high.

J worked yesterday. When she finished, we went to Mellow Mushroom for π Day, (3/14). We ordered two small pies, Great White and Veg Out. I went over my WW Smart Points©. But I suppose that’s OK from time to time.

I woke up about an hour ago. I’m watching videos of Brazilians at the beach. Fun watching. I’m feeling sleepy again. Back to bed when this is over.

I don’t have very much to say, except I feel pretty good, emotionally.

I went up early, about 10:00 PM. I was tired. J put in an I Love Lucy DVD. I can fall asleep to Lucy, primarily because of the music. I’m not feeling any anxiety, which is nice. I did fall asleep, but I woke up.

I did watch part of the Australia. vs. New Zealand ODI Cricket Match from Sydney, NSW. Ironically the Sydney Cricket Ground is devoid of spectators, because of the COVID-19 precautions. Contrast the empty stadium with the 86,000 spectators in Melbourne, Victoria for Sunday’s Australia vs India Women’s World Cup Final, just six days ago.

Decaf coffee beckons. I really ought to go back to bed. Sleep next to J. Bless her. Bedtime.

I don’t know how to begin this. I’m angry at myself for not communicating with J. I can’t share what my needs are.

Today, before I even start to share anything, she says, “What have I done wrong?”

I immediately shut down. I felt so guilty about sharing anything that I kept quiet.

I know. I’m a crappy communicator. But when what I say will only hurt her and she’s doing the best job of loving she can do, I figure it’s best to say nothing. I went up early, slept a little, then woke up, came back downstairs.

I packed her lunch for tomorrow., actually, today. Now I am watching cartoons on YouTube. I made some decaf. Peanut butter on a toasted English muffin is in my future.

I am experiencing a dark phase. Tbere is a lot of negativity, exhaustion and sleepiness.

The clean dishes have been put away. The dirty dishes are in the dishwasher. J is at work.

I need to eat. I feel strange, like I could cry, or go back to bed. There is tidying up to do while I watch YouTube videos.

When I say what I need to say to J she will react.

“I need you to hug me for no reason at all. “

I will leave it at that. For now.

I don’t know whether I posted about Daylight Savings Time (DST) in the past or whether I just have the same rant in the Real World, but have never posted it. For the first few days in the Spring, it feels like my butt has been kicked by the biggest bully in the schoolyard.

Then it settles down. My circadian rhythm adapts (As a hopeless and hapless White Guy, it’s the only rhythm I have.), and I cruise right along after that, until the Summer heat grinds me like a nutmeg over egg nog.

Today, I had some energy in the morning, cleaned the bath tub, did laundry. I went to visit my sponsee S. He had fallen behind on his shower-taking obligation. Body odor combined with the smell of Renuzit cone air freshener, the kind you smell in the nastiest of service station restrooms, was sending me into olfactory freak out. I came home for a lunch and, as the day progressed, felt my energy reserves dissipate.

So I’m watching trains now. J is watching Part One of the season finale of The Bachelor. I will go up when it’s over. A Southbound Amtrak, which terminates in Richmond is about to stop in Ashland. It is running late. In a few minutes #97.The Silver Meteor will pass through on the way to Miami tomorrow sometimes. I love trains. I only wish glamorous movie stars like William Powell and Myrna Loy, still climbed off at the Old Penn Station in New York.

You almost got the full 1930’s Nostalgia rant. I will save that for later.

Night all.

I am a man on a mission. Once again, I find myself beating myself up, for letting the detritus accumulate. And also the sense of loneliness is painful, as J rushed off to her second job.

But the task at hand is tidying up. The lesbian romance literature is not good for me to read. It deals with people who find love and romance and who get laid. (Sorry to be so blunt.)

But let me press on.

Got this Bad Boy in the post today. Getting ready for Summer